


Make This Chaos Count

by Lady_Romanoff, TheSmallestThings



Series: We Fall Apart Slowly [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Airplane Crashes, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hospitalization, How Do I Tag, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Injury, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Self-Sacrifice, Steve Makes Mistakes, Tony is best dad and you can fight me, Uhhhhhhhh, almost, but then everyone is happy so, everyone is sad, honestly dude you fucked up ur kid p bad, i really dont know what to say other than i am so sorry, tony's still p bitter and tbh i dont blame him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 12:20:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13248114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Romanoff/pseuds/Lady_Romanoff, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSmallestThings/pseuds/TheSmallestThings
Summary: When Tony and Steve get upset with each other now, it's less petty comments and more yelling after all the mess that happened with the Accords. But how far does that anger extend, especially when disaster strikes? Not to mention the fact that nobody really talks about their feelings anymore. How do you tell someone that you still love them when you haven't really apologized to them yet?Aka: People get angry, then hurt. Sacrifices are made, but in the end it all works out for the best because you can never hate someone you truly love.





	Make This Chaos Count

**Author's Note:**

> TST: Okokok so the thing is, this is going to fit into our other fic later on, but right now we're posting it separate until we get to that point in the plot. That said, we're posting it here NOW so that we can get feedback and see if there's any way we need to edit it. Again, this is a part of another fic, but right now it will be stand alone. It'll make more sense when it's added in, and if you want to read the main fic, the link to that is https://archiveofourown.org/works/12333855/chapters/28047306 . Oh! I also have a tumblr! I'm thinking of posting little bits of stories on there if you guys want it! You can find it at www.thesmollestgay.tumblr.com ! If you decide to follow me, please leave me an ask or message me about the fic, I'd be glad to hear from you! Leave kudos and comments as you wish and enjoy! (I dont know how to insert links so if you know, please help!!!!)

“What the hell was that!?” Steve stepped into the jet with a glare fixated only on Tony, who was leaning casually against the wall.

“It was a successful fight. That’s what it was. It was going by the rules rather than feelings.” He shrugged, “Not something you’d understand.”

He took a step forward, fist clenched, “The fuck is that supposed to mean!?”

Tony shrugged. "Calm down. I'm just saying that you tend to follow your heart more than your mind whenever we're on missions, that's all. I can't help it if you're pissed at me for doing what we were supposed to."

“So what? You think you’ve got the right to do whatever you want instead? You’ll let anyone in power just tell you what to do without thinking for yourself?” 

“Fuck off Rogers. Just admit that I’m right and let’s go.” 

The tension started to grow and the few people already in the jet shared a worried glance before Clint spoke up, “If you guys are going to argue, could you please do it outside? We’re really not in the mood.”

“Oh piss off Clint!” Tony directed his glare to the other man, eyes narrowed, "How about you go somewhere else and let the adults talk?"

He rolled his eyes at them before walking off, sighing and turning to Natasha. "We're landing soon, right?"

"Not soon enough." 

Steve continued scowl as Tony held up a hand and answered a call, crossing his arms and leaning back. He hung up a few minutes later, smirking. "Hey, Spangles, I've got some good news."

He glanced over to him, jaw clenched, “What?”

"The two of us get to go on another mission. Just like one of your little bonding exercises, right?" He grinned. "Come on, it'll be fun. I mean, as long as you stick to the rules this time and everything."

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

"Which part don't you understand? The mission, the bonding, or the fact that you're being completely irrational?"

He squared his shoulders, looking over the other man defensively, “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Tony nodded with a smirk, seemingly assuming he'd won the argument, "We'll be back at the compound in about fifteen minutes, I'll grab a few things and then we can head out. Think you can drop that look by then?"

“I really don't feel like saying anything else to you right now.” He stood, walking off to another section of the jet.

They were back at the compound on schedule, stepping off the jet one by one. 

As soon as he was off, Steve went to greet Bucky with a frown, talking to him for a bit while waiting for Tony to finish up with... whatever he was doing.

"What was that all about?" Bucky asked, looking worried. "You scared the kid, that's for sure," He made a vague gesture at Peter, who had seemed to shrink into himself as soon as the yelling began. 

Keeping his voice low, he leaned back, shaking his head, “Look, that wasn't my intention but he didn’t tell me all the details. He left out half of it and just— expected me not to care! At all! Didn’t even think to tell me- Hey! By the way, this isn’t a regular capture and interrogate mission, we’re here to literally assassinate someone. You know- something the Avengers definitely weren’t created for. Something that he knew I wouldn’t be okay with!” He let out a frustrated sigh, “It’s gotten to the point where he’ll do anything that the people in power tell him to do! It’s ridiculous!”

Bucky put a hand on his shoulder. "Just put up with him for a little bit longer, alright? I'm not saying either of you are right, but I get it, I do. I can try to talk to him about it if you want, he'll probably listen to me more, considering that I'm not the one he's been yelling at him for half an hour."

He lean his head back making an annoyed noise, “I’ve got to go somewhere with him in a bit. Literally all the details I have. Afterwards, sure. Go for it.” He ran a hand through his hair, catching the other man’s eyes.

A small smile crossed his face, "Try not to kill each other while you're gone, alright?"

He chuckled, “I’ll try my best. No promises. You know how much I love getting into fights.”

"You haven't changed at all, you know." Bucky smirked, shoving his shoulder gently as he walked next to him, "And here I am, still dragging your ass out of half of them."

“Yeah but you actually have a choice in that now. And you still continue to.” He sighed, checking his phone, “Wheels up in five. Wish me luck.”

"You two be careful. Both of you. And no killing each other, okay?" Bucky gave Steve a once over, giving him a light kiss before he had to walk over to the jet, "Now go, I'm sick of dealing with you acting all..." He made yet another vague gesture, obviously implying that he didn't enjoy his moodiness.

He stepped in and tried to hide his grin. Every single time he started to get upset Bucky always- always- pulled that shit. Making him smile despite his desire to be upset for the rest of his days.

Tony was already sitting down when he walked in. "Ready?"

“Seeing as I still don’t know where we’re going? No. But I don’t have a choice, do I?” He sat down across from him, glancing over his outfit, adorned with yet another pair of absolutely ridiculously tinted sunglasses.

"Now, where's the fun in that?" Tony grinned, his mood seeming much better than earlier.

“Just because I was smiling doesn’t mean I’m not still pissed off at you, Stark.”

He almost felt bad about how Tony’s smile fell instantly at his words, face turning neutral and into his ‘business face’. His eyes turned to steel before he finally responded, “Fine. Ross wants to talk to us.”

"What is it this time?" Steve asked as the jet lifted off.

Tony shrugged, glancing out the window, “He wants to thank us.”

“What, for killing a guy? Wow, sounds like a great time. Are we gonna be able to discuss anything at all?”

Tony stayed silent.

"And why did we, of all of us, have to go?"

He sighed, impatiently tapping his fingers, “I don’t know. I guess he thinks we’re the leaders or some shit. Can’t grasp the concept that it’s a team.”

"Well, at least it'll be quick..." Steve sighed.

“All you’ve got to do is show up and at least act like you don’t hate it, okay? Can you at least handle that?” He seemed completely exhausted as he spoke, an edge of exasperation in his words. 

"I never said I hated it, Tony."

“You don’t have to say it. It was and always has been implied.” He seemed absolutely frustrated still, eyes not meeting his.

"You know, you don't just have to automatically assume that I hate everything you tell me."

“Yeah, I don’t, but you make it pretty damn easy to guess what you do and don't like.” He had taken out his phone, and must’ve been looking through some emails if the way his nose scrunched up was any indication, “Anyways, you’ve made it clear you can’t stand Ross or any of this Accords crap. And I seriously doubt that’s changed any, so just... don't do anything stupid.”

"Well, it's a little hard to be all excited about something that I never really supported in the first place, especially not one we tried to kill each other over."

He could tell he was looking at him through the sunglasses, the feeling of his eyes burning through him until he looked away. God, they really needed to work that stuff out. They always avoided the subject. 

They sat in silence for a while, neither wanting to speak up.

The jet shifted, and Steve jumped. "Did you feel that?"

"Oh, yeah, sure, great observation there, Steve. We moved, it's a crazy thing that happens sometimes."

“Seriously, Tony! What was that?” His grip tightened on the armrest as the jet shook again. He never had been particularly fond of flying, especially not since...

He rolled his eyes, “It’s called turbulence. I thought you knew that.”

“No I do it’s just— jesus fuck!” He almost broke the chair as the plane shook again, this time more violently.

Tony obnoxiously smirked, leaning back, “What? Are you scared or something?”

"I...we should check if something's wrong." Steve stood up, pressing himself against the wall as the shaking continued. 

"Come on, Steve, I'd think that you of all people would have experience with this. I'm sure it's nothing, this thing can handle practically anything."

He gritted his teeth, glaring, “Could you maybe, I don’t know, not be a dick for once in your life—“ He almost slipped as the jet jolted again, noticing how Tony’s look fell at the way it rocked.

“Okay fine, hold up. I’ll go check what’s going on. Should've piloted this thing myself.” He came back a few minutes later, all the color drained from his face. "Grab a parachute."

“What!? What the hell happened!?” He gripped onto a guard rail as the floor shifted, tilting some. 

“Something hit us— I don’t know what— the pilot’s trying to find a place to land us but I don't know if he can—“

A loud bang shook the jet, knocking both of them down. Wind whipped around the cabin and flames licked in from the cockpit.

Frantically, Tony tried to get to his suit, but it was too late. He felt the plane dropping, and he closed his eyes, preparing himself for the impact.

 

At first, there was no pain. Just... shock... and pressure. In fact, Tony was pretty sure he had blacked out before they hit the ground. But when he could think again- when he was once again fully conscious- it hit him like a truck.

He was used to pain. Seriously, he’d be in deep shit by now if he wasn’t, but this was different. This wasn’t just... some injuries from a battle. Wasn’t like when a tool slipped and he got another scar. This was aching, burning pain that felt too close to when that damn bomb exploded... he groaned, trying to sit up and biting back a scream as another round of agony shot through him.

Looking around, he saw pieces of scrap metal scattered around the area- one of which was embedded in his leg. Cautiously, he tried to move it, which proved to be a huge mistake as a sharp pain gripped his entire leg. Laying back down, he noticed that there was no sign of Steve. There was no way to tell if he was even alive, but judging by the state that he was in... His eyes caught on his shirt, littered with small spots of blood. His breath hitched. Fuck. The scrap metal. The pain. No wonder it felt so bad. He needed to find Steve. He needed to find his suit. Assess the damage.

He bit his lip. First he’d have to get the metal out. It practically nailed him into the ground and he couldn’t move until that was taken care of. He closed his eyes to think. 

Okay. This was bad. But he had no idea if it had hit an artery. He’d need FRIDAY to tell him that and right now he had no clue where his suit was. He knew that he had two options- leave it, and wait for someone to find them in the middle of God knows where, or take it out, and risk bleeding out while trying to find Steve, who he wasn't sure had even survived the crash.

He sighed, he was never one for luck but Steve could be in worse shape and—

“Fuck this. Fuck you universe. Always making me do this stuff. What did I do to piss off Lady Luck so much.” He bit his lip, tasting blood before he muster up the courage to follow through.

God, he could go for some moral support right now. He adjusted to get a grip and paused. Bleeding. That was a thing he had to prevent. He muttered to himself, tearing off his shirt with a frown. Damn shame. He liked that shirt too. After repositioning himself he took a deep breath, hissing as he exhaled, “Come on Stark. Made of iron. Don’t fucking forget that.”

He put his hands on the shard, pain already flaring up at the slightest touch. Gritting his teeth, he pulled it out as quickly as he could, unable to hold back a scream of agony. The pain was absolutely nauseating, making him lightheaded, but somehow, he managed to push through it just long enough to wrap what remained of his shirt around his leg before blacking out again.

He came back seconds later, blinking his eyes as he assessed the scrap. That looked... really bad. That was stuck in his leg? And with his shirt removed? The small shards stuck out of varying areas, and he had to remind himself not to mess with them as he forced himself up, almost falling again as he accidentally shifted his weight. He scanned the wreckage and saw a glint of gold. Oh hell yes. He scrambled over to it, noticing that it was mostly disassembled but still intact. Digging around for the faceplate, he listened closely for any sounds. Breathing, coughing, anything to indicate Steve was alright. 

Nothing. Bitter silence.

He kept digging through the wreckage, finding pieces of his suit, but no sign of Steve. At least once he got it all on, he could scan the area for any life, any evidence, and exactly how bad the crash had fucked him up. The only good thing, he noticed, was that he hadn't found a body, but...

“FRIDAY?” Once it was on he hesitantly spoke up, unsure if she still worked after the crashes could only hope but-

“Yes sir?”

He let out a sigh of relief and instantly regretted it as his chest seized up, “Oh thank god.” His eyes slipped closed as he took a few heaving breaths, “Notify the others—“

“Already done, sir.”

“Good. Great. Search for any heat signals in a one mile radius.”

“Yes sir, but I believe it would be wiser to assess your physical damage first—“

"Yeah, but it's pretty obvious that every part of me is fucked to all hell right now, so we might as well see if there's anyone else in this situation."

There was a frustrated silence- and honestly, he really didn’t program her to do that- before she responded, “... Of course sir. I have found a heat source not too far from your location. Navigating a route now.”

FRIDAY ended up having to do most of the flying- Tony was just too drained, in too much pain to do it. A few minutes later, they landed, leaving Tony looking at the too-still figure of Steve. 

Tentatively, Tony reached forward to check for a pulse, sighing in relief when he felt one- weak, but still there. There were deep gashes all over Steve's body, and one arm was twisted at an unnatural angle. 

Tony sighed. "FRIDAY, scan him. I need to know if it's safe to move him."

“Negative sir. It appears that there is extreme risk of spinal cord damage if adjusted.” He bit back frustration, glancing over the damage again and clenching his fist. 

“Okay so is there any way I can prevent that? Weigh the risks?”

“There is a possible solution but it’s risky. I can attempt to move him so that no further damage is done, but there is still a probability that it may injure him further.”

Tony sighed. "Go...go ahead. We're not going to get anywhere if we just stay in the cold like this." He bit his lip, hoping that he wouldn't cause any more damage to Steve. He'd never forgive himself if he was the one to hurt him so badly...but as he thought about it, he realized that the whole thing was pretty much his own fault. Steve was the one to get worried, and Tony hadn't thought to do anything until it was too late, and now...

He closed his eyes. He'd hurt so many people, torn so many families apart with the ones he couldn't save...but he couldn't waste time thinking about all of that when Steve was in front of him, barely breathing.

“Alright FRI, let’s do this.” He gently attempted to adjust with her help, breath held the whole time. When he finally heard her speak again, he realized he had fallen out of the majority of the suit, the only piece still on being his helmet. 

“Sir! Sir, Captain Rogers is out of danger. You appear to be having a panic attack, please sit down so that you can calm down!” He didn’t even realize he was. God, had it just become so normal that he couldn’t tell the difference anymore?

Slowly, he opened his eyes to see that she had moved them to a small overhang, somewhat sheltered by trees and just barely enough to give them shelter. He noticed that the blood had gone through the shirt wrapped around his leg, and he groaned.  
“Shit. Shit. This is— shit.” He leaned his head back, trying to take in a few breaths, looking around more. Steve was still out and he needed to get help himself but everything hurt so bad—

“ETA is 45 minutes.”

“Fuck.” He forced a hand through his hair as he tore off the faceplate, grimacing as he felt how it clumped up, sticky from blood.

He moved to see his leg from a better angle and went shock still as he heard a groan.

He turned around, lightly putting a hand on Steve's good arm. "Hey, hey. Steve. Don't try to move, alright?"

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but his words were replaced by a cry of pain as his face somehow went even paler. Tony winced in sympathy- Steve normally had a pretty high pain tolerance, so for something to make him scream like that...

“Sorry. Sorry. Look, they’ll be here in a bit. Just... don’t move.” He bit his lip and ignored the fact that it was bleeding too from all the abuse, and settled into what he hoped was a steady voice, “How bad is it? Just... hold up fingers. One to five.”

Five. Shit. 

"Alright, FRI, go ahead and give us that injury report. On both of us. Might as well try and deal with what we can while we're waiting...how long do we have left?"

“Thirty minutes sir. Which report would you like first?”

"Steve's." He still couldn't get the thoughts out of his head, the fact that if he'd listened to Steve earlier, this wouldn't have happened... hopefully, medical would show up before they got any worse.

“... yes sir. Multiple fractured and broken bones, moderate concussion. Collapsed lung and possible internal bleeding. Risk of spinal cord injury is severely diminished, however any more movement could lead to further trauma. That said sir, your injuries are also extremely extensive and I would advise- as I am programmed to do- to focus on your own injuries first.” If an AI could sound worried... she did. Meaning this was a very, very bad situation.

It felt like his breathing stopped for a second before he forced himself to cough, severe pain shooting through his chest. He willed himself not to look at the blood that he knew had come up, if the iron taste in his mouth. God, this whole situation was fucked.

Steve was looking at him, an odd mix of concern and pain in his eyes. He looked far too exhausted to move- which in his case, was probably for the best. His eyes started to droop closed, and Tony reached out, lightly grabbing his good hand- as good as it could be, anyways- and looking right at him. "You've gotta stay awake, okay? Just until we get help."

Every time he moved, Tony felt a sharp, piercing pain in his chest, but he knew that there wasn't much he could do for either of them. His only hope was that they wouldn't bleed out before help showed up.

“Fri, do I want to know mine?” He glanced at the screens, looking at the full report ruefully. 

There was a long pause, “... there is a very high likelihood that it will cause you distress.”

"Go ahead." He laughed bitterly before grimacing, "It's not like this situation can get any worse."

“As you wish. Three broken ribs, minor spinal trauma, punctured lung. Several lacerations from the metal, a few being entry points. Internal bleeding and severe blood loss detected. How would you like to proceed?”

That was... worse than he expected.

“Rogers, you’re about to hate me.”

Steve looked up, giving him a sad smile, stumbling over his word. "Look, if you're about to pull some of that-- self-sacrificing crap, don't bother. You're the one here who can still move, you've got a better chance." Tony wanted to laugh and scream at the same time. He had no idea how wrong he was.

“Yeah, not for much longer at this rate. Don’t hate me too much. Fri, activate protocol 497.” He tried not to show his pain, not to pay attention to the way his lungs were giving out on him. 

“Activation code?”

“Spangles.” He almost laughed, the ridiculousness of the code compared to the situation it was made for was so... dumb. So silly. Then again, he had hoped he never had to use it. So much for that. 

He practically fell over as he tore the helmet off, propping himself up against a tree. 

Steve’s eyes had widened and he went to move before grimacing, forcing out a few words, “Tony— what the hell are you doing!?”

He chuckled humorlessly before having to cough again, knitting his eyebrows as he saw more blood, “Some of that self-sacrificing bullshit you told me not to do. Thought that was obvious.”

Steve tried to move towards him but couldn’t help the pain that shot through him. The suit had found it’s way to him, wrapping around and keeping him from moving too much. 

He felt a prick and then almost instant relief, the pain starting to fade but the panic still intact. “ETA is ten minutes.”

"Tony...Tony, you can't do this. I won't let you." He struggled, trying to get himself out, but the suit kept him anchored in place.  
“Sorry, Rogers. Wish it didn’t have to be like this.” He forced a smile. He always forced a smile in situations like these. But he could tell he was fading and the ice cold feeling that settled in his gut made him sick.

"No, Tony, please...they're going to be here soon. Just hold on for a little bit longer, alright? Just a few more minutes." Somehow, Steve managed to move himself closer to Tony, trying to find some way to help, “Fuck. Come on, stay with me. I can’t have my final note be that I was an ass alright? Tony. Tony!” He knew it was pointless. 

Until he heard his breathing. Almost a chuckle, just under his breath. Whispered words almost unnoticeable under all the harsh sounds.

He leaned closer, trying to understand what he was saying- his words were slurred from exhaustion, and Steve could hear his breathing getting quieter and quieter with every passing minute.

Afterwards, he’d wish he hadn’t heard it. Wish he’d let himself stay in the dark about it but at the time he just felt si numb when the words were comprehended. 

“There you go dad... finally did something you’d like... something you’d approve of... hope you’re fucking happy in hell...”

"Tony..." Steve murmured, not sure of what to say. And so, instead, he shifted Tony as gently as he could so that the two were pressed together, and Steve wished that Tony didn't have to lean against the cold, hard metal of the suit, but it was either that or the ground, and he wanted to offer Tony all the comfort that he could.

“How much longer!?” He tried to keep the panic out of his voice, failing miserably as soon he stopped breathing for a second.

“ETA is five minutes.”

“Well tell them to hurry up!” He was trying to keep him awake, trying his damnedest and he was losing the fight.

"Hey, hey, talk to me. Tell me... tell me what you're working on. Talk about whatever you want, okay? Just five more minutes, Tony, just a little bit longer."  
Never, in his life, did he ever think he’d be crushed to hear Tony be silent. To hear him not say a word. 

He barely noticed the fact that he was tearing up. Even so, Steve realized that he was hearing a helicopter in the distance. He almost fell apart once more.

It was almost too much to register as the medical team rushed out, loud noises and too-fast movement, and panic. So much panic. He was trying to push them away from himself and telling them to focus on Tony, he needed it more, he was fading so fast- if he died right now--

And then, he saw Tony's too-still body getting farther and farther away as he was carried onto the jet, the pain flaring up once again at the movement.  
Of course, as soon as he could get out of the suit he did, wanting to move more but being blocked by a familiar mass. 

“Steve. Stevie, you need to sit down and let them look over you.”

"...Buck?"

Bucky smiled sadly. "Yeah, Stevie. It's me. We're gonna get you both out of here, alright? You're gonna be okay."

There were tears slipping down Steve's face, from pain, from fear, from the sheer relief of the help finally arriving, and he practically melted into Bucky's arms as he helped him sit up.

He went to speak and realized that he just... couldn’t. Couldn’t choke out the words. He just gripped onto his hand and let himself get help all while he sat and waited and wondered if Tony was okay. Even after they were rushed to the SHIELD hospital.

It wasn’t until he had his arm wrapped up and was laying back on a bed he had insisted he didn’t need that he finally spoke up, lifting his head and looking over at his best friend. His lover. He bit back tears again. 

“Do you know what that asshole did...?”

"What?"

"He...he gave me his suit. Activated something in it to...help me. He was hurt just as bad as I was, and he...he just gave it up. To save me, Buck, he was fading so fast, he..."

"Shh, doll, he's gonna be alright, okay? They've got him in surgery right now- you'd be in there too, if you didn't try so persistently to pretend that you were okay, which you're obviously not. Come on, a collapsed lung?" He sighed. "I thought I was going to lose both of you..."

“... he was saying something. Before he passed out.” Steve had focused on a spot on the wall, not moving, “He felt like he had to do it. For... his honor or something.”

“What do you mean?” He sighed, trying to get his attention.

“... I think Howard said stuff to him... or implied stuff. Made it seem like he was... I don’t know Buck, but the way it sounded—“

"Shhh..." Bucky tried to offer some comfort, loosely grabbing his good hand. "What did he say?"

“I can’t— I can’t fucking remember exactly but it was just... he was delirious but he said something about doing something he’d approve of. Making him proud. I never... I never thought to ask—“

"And that's okay." Bucky sighed. "We can talk to him later, okay? Preferably when you're both better."

“Is he still in surgery?” Steve tore his gaze off the wall in a snap, finally glancing over to Bucky.

“Yeah. They’ll come talk to us if anything happens.” He ran his free hand through his hair, pulling it back and frowning at the fact that he didn’t have a hairband to keep it up, “Everyone else wants to see you, you know. Make sure you’re okay.”

"Tell them they can come in. I'm fine now."

Bucky shot him a look that was all too familiar, the same one he'd given Steve countless times years ago. "Yeah, okay, sure you are. You know, besides the fact that your arm is broken in multiple places, you can't even breathe without feeling pain- and don't even try to argue on that one, I know you too well for that- and of course, that's probably because of the fact that you only have one fully functional lung at the moment."

“Killjoy. You’re acting like my mother.” Humor. That would lighten the mood, help everything not be as tense. Hopefully.

Bucky rolled his eyes but his lips twisted into a smirk as he glanced over him, “You look like hell, you know. Like you fell off a cliff, got run over by two semis and dragged along another five miles.”

"...should I ask how you know what that looks like?" Steve smiled slightly. "And besides, I think I should be insulted by that. You're supposed to be telling me how good I look."

"Yeah, that rule doesn't apply when you're half-dead, sorry." Bucky smiled back before his voice got softer. "Get some rest, babydoll. I'm gonna stay right here beside you, okay? I'll wake you up when Tony's out." He rubbed his thumb across the back of Steve's hand. "They left the other bed in here empty for a reason, you know."

He forced himself to chuckle, leaning into him, “I’m not that bad and you know it. You’ve seen me at worse.”

Bucky was right though, he was exhausted and in desperate need of sleep and—

“Look, I know you need to get sleep but are we still carrying out the plan to ask him out as normal or are we gonna have to make adjustments? Cause I’ve been the one having to plan this and if you two almost dying fucks this up again–”

He couldn’t help but laugh, holding back a flood of relief.

"...maybe wait until he can actually move around before telling him?"

“Yeah, okay but this is the second goddamn time Steve and if it turns into a third I swear to whatever god you believe in that I will leave you out of it—“

"Come on, we almost died, give us some mercy." Steve smiled as he leaned against Bucky, his eyes shutting. Bucky looked down to him, starting to hum quietly.

 

When he woke him up again, it was for good news. 

“Stevie. Doll, wake up.”

He opened his eyes, smiling when he saw Bucky's hand still holding onto his. "What is it?" He froze. "Is...is something wrong?"

“No! No, everything’s fine. Tony just got out of surgery. Plus, everyone else wants to see you, now that they aren’t stressing about Tony. Is that okay?” He looked him in the eyes, searching for his answer in them.

"Yeah, go ahead and let them in." Steve looked over to the other side of the room, smiling softly at Tony's sleeping figure, his dark curls standing out against the light sheets.

He was startled as he heard a voice, “I’m glad he’s alright.” 

He glanced up, finally noticing Natasha in the doorway. She pushed herself off, motioning to Tony with a small smile. 

“I mean, I’m glad you’re okay too, but he really had us worried back there. You feeling alright?”

"...I'm better than I was, at least." Steve smiled as Natasha sat on the edge of Steve's bed, absentmindedly rubbing the edge of his sheet. 

"You know, they really should start putting blankets in here." She grinned. "Wouldn't want you getting frozen again, would we?"

He rolled his eyes, “Haha. Very funny. But yeah. It would be nice.”

She sighed, “Peter’s pretty broken up right now. You guys scared him.”

Steve's gaze softened. "I forgot about that. Is he alright?"

A frown crossed her face, and she hesitated before speaking again, “You can ask him yourself, I’ll go see if he’s up. But keep in mind he’s... really not doing well with this. Understandably.”

Adjusting, he nodded stiffly, glancing over at Tony again. God, he still looked like hell. Then again, he probably did too...

He gave a small smile to Natasha before she walked out, and a feeling of dread started to fill him. God, he completely forgot about Peter...

“Hey Buck?” He glanced up, nerves twisting his stomach. 

“Yeah?” 

“I really appreciate you being here through this but I think...” he sighed, gently pulling his hand away, “I think Peter’s going to want to talk to me. Just me...”

Bucky nodded. "I'll leave when he comes in." There was sadness in his eyes as he squeezed Steve's hand.

“Was he there? When you guys picked us up?” He couldn’t remember seeing him, but then again, he couldn’t remember much in general.

"He was. Kid panicked when he saw when they took you both onto the jet. We tried to stop him from coming, but..."

“But he wouldn’t let up... so he saw how bad it was?” He shook his head, sitting up with a flinch. The pain wasn’t as bad, and he was definitely healing, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t sore. Though, he couldn’t imagine how bad Tony felt. 

“Yeah, ‘Tasha had to pull him away because he was freaking out over Tony.” He shrugged, standing up and brushing his hand over a cut on Steve's head and glancing over at Tony sadly, “I’ll head out now, but you know I'll stay close.”

"Thanks Buck." Steve sighed. Peter was probably more freaked out than he was about the whole situation.

As soon as Bucky walked out, Peter hesitantly stepped in, looking around and catching his gaze on Tony. 

He had his sleeves down to his hands, fidgeting with the edges and looking away. His face was set but he sniffled, wiping his face to try and prevent himself from crying anymore. 

God, he looked a mess. 

Steve decided to speak up, “Hey Pete... how are you holding up?" He smiled sadly as Peter sat down in the chair that Bucky just left, bags under his eyes that were red from crying. Peter didn't say anything at first, but Steve could tell that he was holding back sobs.

After a long silence, he spoke, “He could’ve died.” Peter didn’t look up, only at his hands, fiddling his fingers, “He did die. Twice. On the table. They didn’t want me to hear but I did. They forgot I can hear really well.”

Steve felt his heart stop for a moment, another wave of anxiety gripping him. "He...what?"

Peter nodded. "They...they almost lost him...they could've lost him...I-" His words were cut off as tears started streaming down his face.

Steve didn’t know what to say. What to do. So he laid a hand on the kid’s shoulder before pulling him into a hug, not saying a word until he calmed down some.

“I’m sorry— ‘m sorry it’s just that—“ He hurriedly wiped away the tears, “I could’ve lost him too... why didn’t— why didn’t you stop him!? Why didn’t you protect him more!? Why— why didn’t...” he sobbed again, pulling away from him.

"...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you like that..." He dropped his face into his hands. "I was just so scared and I thought I was gonna lose someone else and I know that sounds kinda selfish but I haven't slept since then, I can't sleep, every time I close my eyes it's-" His words died away, and he looked up at Steve, fear clear in his eyes, "He's all I've got left."

“I’m so sorry Peter. You’re right, I should have. And I’m sorry. But he’s okay. He’s going to be okay. And I swear to you, I’ll do better. It won’t happen again. I won’t let it.” He frowned, glancing over at Tony once again.

Peter just nodded, allowing Steve to pull him into a hug once again. Steve felt him shaking, and wanted desperately to take his pain away, to say something that would make things better. But what do you say to that?

But he could divert the topic. Put his mind on something else. That’s what he needed to do. 

“Is your arm bothering you again?” He knew that sometimes it would, what with all scars and dislocation that happened when he was swinging around.

Peter shrugged. "A little...I haven't really noticed it that much... I've kinda had my mind on other things."

“You didn’t get hurt, right? I know you were just there for backup and to evacuate, but I know you only tell Tony if you get injured—“

“No! No, I’m fine. I guess it’s just been bothering me, I don’t know. I’m sorry for getting upset though... you got hurt too- it’s not like you could’ve done much about the situation. And I haven’t even asked if you’re okay even though I know you weren't—“

"Don't worry about me." Steve shook his head. "Now, when's the last time you slept? Like, more than an hour?"

He shrugged, looking away, “I don’t remember. A while? Does it matter? I won’t be able to sleep any 'till he wakes up anyways, what's the point?”

"Point is that sleep's important, especially with your metabolism, Pete. We've talked about this."

"Yeah, I guess. I'm...I'm gonna go over there, actually. I don't know if he can here me or not, but..." He shrugged. "Worth a shot, right?" Slowly, he stood up, stepping over to Tony's bed and sitting down on the edge in silence.

Steve decided that was a clear enough rejection, going quiet and trying not to think too much about it.

 

It wasn’t until he was feeling better, two days later, that he decided to do the same thing, sitting by his bed, waiting for a glimmer of alertness.

"...Tony?" He asked, hoping that by some miracle, he'd get an answer.

Silence. 

Sighing, he took Tony's hand, resenting how cold it felt, "Tony, I'm... I'm sorry. Peter was right, I should have tried harder."

This whole situation was just... a mess. And as soon as he woke up, Steve was going to apologize and try his best to make things better. 

If he woke up. 

He shook his head, clearing the thought. He was going to. It was just a matter of time. Tony was strong. A little thing like a plane crash wasn’t going to pull him down. Hopefully.

Bucky walked in a few hours later to find Steve in the same position, his face blank as he muttered things so quietly that Bucky had to walk closer in order to hear. Steve was so focused on Tony that he didn't notice Bucky approaching, and jumped when he put a hand on his shoulder.

He turned suddenly, relaxing as he realized who it was. “Hey Buck. Sorry about that, I guess I wasn’t really paying attention”

Bucky leaned back, sighing, “Have you slept? At all? I know I've been telling you to over and over, but you keep not listening...”

Steve laughed slightly, shaking his head. "I don't want him to wake up and be alone."

“And I get that, but Stevie, you look like shit. Again. Get some sleep. Plus, he’s not gonna wake up himself, the doctors have to wake him up. You know that.” He rubbed his shoulder, looking over him worriedly.

"I know, just..." He sighed. "I don't want anything to happen to him while I'm asleep."

“Nothing’s gonna happen to him. Trust me. If you want to sleep, I’ll keep watch.” 

“Yeah, but we got shot down. Someone shot us down. Meaning that there’s still people out there—“ His grip had tightened around Tony’s blanket, looking over to him with a touch of fear in his eyes. 

“We took care of that already. Steve, come on. You need sleep.”

"...Only for an hour or so. Promise you'll wake me up if anything happens?"

Bucky nodded. "Promise."

"Thank you... For all of this..." With that, Steve shifted so that his head was on the side of Tony's bed, and he closed his eyes, hearing Bucky move a chair over to sit by them before he drifted off.

Tony was woken up the next day, looking exhausted, and in pain but... alive. Wonderfully, beautifully alive, and it was a weight off his chest. But then he spoke.

“Why the hell is it, that every single time I go to pull some self-sacrificing shit, it never works. It’s like the universe is fucking set on having me go out because of something dumb. Like alcohol poisoning. Or falling down the stairs or something.”

He looked over to see Steve and Peter beside him, tears in their eyes. Steve was the first to move, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Tony as gently as he could. "You're a fucking idiot, you know that?"

He chuckled before hissing in pain, “Wow Rogers. Way to be rude to the injured guy. I’ll have you know, I’m a certified genius—“

"Yeah, but people will have no way of knowing that, seeing as you've got your heart set on getting yourself killed."

He shrugged, smiling, “What can I say? I love the adrenaline rush. Oof!” He grunted as Peter pulled him into a hug, maneuvering so that he could hug him back.

"Dad, I- I thought I was gonna lose you- I can't lose someone else and they brought you in and I-" His words were muffled as he buried his face against Tony, his shoulders shaking.

“Hey. Hey, kid. Relax. I’m fine now. Look at me. I’m fine. Everything’s okay. You can’t get rid of me that easy.” He frowned, rubbing his back. “Sorry that I scared you.”

"It's okay, it's not your fault..." Peter sniffed, closing his eyes as Tony ran a hand through his hair. 

"I'm not just gonna leave you alone, alright, Pete? And even if something happened to me, you've got the whole rest of the team to look after you. You sure as hell aren't losing another family, that's for sure. Not on my watch."

He nodded, and Tony risked a glance at Steve, furrowing his eyebrows, “Right, Steve?”

"Yeah. Yeah, of course." He still felt a sharp pang of guilt at Peter's words, wondering if Peter was still mad at him- not that he'd blame him, of course, but the kid was pretty forgiving. Dangerously so sometimes.

“Have you slept?” Tony pulled away, glancing over him with a frown, “Eaten?”

Peter looked away guiltily, rubbing his arm, “Um... I haven’t really... had a chance?”

Tony shook his head. "You know, for someone so worried about losing me, you sure don't know how to take care of yourself...tell you what. How about you and Steve go grab something to eat, they're probably going to try and shove some of that shitty hospital food down my throat anyways. And after that, try and sleep, okay?" He frowned. "Both of you."

Steve glanced up as Peter stood, frowning, “Pete, go on ahead, I’ll be right out.”

The kid hesitated but nodded, backing out of the door with a knowing look.

"Steve?" Tony looked over at Steve's worried expression. "What's wrong? You still pissed off, 'cause if that's the case, there's this little thing called waiting until someone's not one foot in the grave-"

“I just... I wanted to talk to you. If that’s alright with you?” He was biting his lip, hands folded in his lap and fidgeting.

Tony shrugged. "Go ahead, it's not like I'm going anywhere anytime soon."

He dragged a shaky hand through his hair, not looking up, “Look, I’m... fuck. I’m so sorry. I should’ve—“

“No. Stop that. Don’t- don’t even think it’s your fault. It’s not.” Tony moved to grab his hand, pulling it down gently, “You were right to begin with and I was just an idiot and let my pride take over— although when does it not—“

"You're a good person, Tony." Steve sighed. "I should've done more, I'm sure there was something I could have done-"

“Don’t interrupt me! Steve, it’s not your fault. And I swear, if you’ve been spending this whole time wallowing in pity, I’ll kill you myself. I just got the longest nap ever. I should be thankful that I almost died, I mean come on! I'm rambling. So just... don’t do that. 'Cause I’m fine now, and being upset about it doesn’t help anything. _Now_ if you want to say anything you can, the floor is open.”

"I mean...I don't really know how to put this, honestly. I probably need to wait until Bucky shows up..." He saw Tony's panicked look, and hurriedly added, "I mean, not bad, I guess, just...shit." He laughed softly. "I'm horrible at this, aren't I?"

“Seeing as I don’t know what the hell is going on? I have no clue. Probably not though. Depending on what’s about to be said.” He chuckled, sitting up a bit more, “Although, I don’t want to be killed for pissing you off earlier, so if I'm about to get pummeled, at least give me a five second running start. It's only fair.“

He rolled his eyes, "Didn't I just say it wasn't something bad?" Steve pulled out his phone, an awkward silence falling as they waited.

“So, do I get any hints to what’s going on or—“

"Oh, come on, where's the fun in that?" Steve smiled.

“Good to know you’re not dead, by the way.” He smirked, leaning back, “I was worried for a second back there. Speaking of- I’m guessing the protocol worked?”

"Yeah. A little too well." Steve frowned. "I still think it should have been used on the person who needed it more."

“I’m guessing you didn’t look in a mirror at all then. You looked bad, Rogers. Seriously. Not to mention it was my fault to begin with so—“

"No, Tony. Don't say that. The only people at fault are the people who shot us down- and me, for not trying harder." He reached over, putting a gentle hand on Tony's shoulder. "Don't you dare blame yourself for this, okay?"

“The hell do you mean, ‘not trying harder’!? You know when I set my mind on something I’m not going to stop! I wanted to do that. I wanted to make sure nothing happened to you. So what if I’m out for a few days- my fault to begin with! Don’t blame yourself either! I did it because you mean more than I do. The world can handle it if I’m gone— they can’t lose their Captain again. But Iron Man? They’d survive. Gotta retire sometime, right?” He frowned, shrugging off his hand, “Look, you can argue with me about this until you’re blue in the face, but the facts still stand- my mind isn’t changing on this anytime soon.”

"Alright..." Steve closed his eyes. "I was just so scared that I'd lose you,that I was going to have to watch you die and I couldn't do a thing about it."

“Wouldn’t be the first time. You know that. New York? Come on, your memory can’t be that bad.” He shrugged, “Plus, I lasted, what, 20 more minutes? After they picked me up?”

"New York was different."

“Hey, whatever you say. If it weren’t for you being frozen, you’d already have had a heart attack with the numerous times you've missed. I'd list them, but we'd be here all day.” He chuckled, then flinched, “Wow, that was an unwelcome thought. Thanks brain.” 

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” He glanced up, brows knitting together. 

“That. Talking to yourself and... and joking about serious stuff and just... not caring. About you getting hurt. Or anything. It gets me worried.”

He looked ready to shoot back a sarcastic response, but stopped, instead closing his mouth for a second to think. “I don’t know. Sorry, I’ll try to work on that—“

"I'm just worried about you. How little you think of yourself, how stuff like this just doesn't seem to matter..." He sighed. "I wish I could help you, but..."

He snorted, earning a glare from Steve, “Sorry! Sorry. It’s just, trust me. I’m good. I’m fine. I don’t need help.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You have issues that you need to work out, and getting help is the best way to work on them.”

“And whose fault do you think it is that I have half of my problems- shit. Sorry. Sorry. That came out wrong- I didn’t mean it like that—“

"No. It's okay, I...I deserved that." He closed his eyes, only to open them again when he heard the door open. 

Tony glanced over too, smiling gently at Bucky before turning back to Steve, “No. that’s on me. Sorry for saying anything. You're right about the whole 'getting help' thing. I'll look into it.” Then he was sitting up more to look at Buck, that forced grin back on his face, “I hope you’re here to get your boyfriend to eat, ‘cause he’s refusing to despite knowing full well I’m fine.”

"You know, I'm getting pretty damn tired of you two insisting that you're "fine"- especially you, Tony, I'd like to see you get out of this bed on your own and stay standing." He paused as he moved, "And no, that does not give you permission to try it."

“Awww. Spoilsport. I was about ready to, too. You sure you don’t wanna see me fall on my ass?” He wiggled his brows, laughing at the eye roll it earned.

“Yeah, I’m sure. The doc would kill me. Although, Stevie would probably have his hands around my neck first for even suggesting it.” He chuckled in that way that would normally have Tony backpedaling the hell away before he said something dumb but—

“But I’ll admit that tin man’s right. You do need to eat somethin’.”

Tony snorted in laughter, “Holy shit, what meds do they have me on? You just admitted that I’m right about something? Quick! Check my temperature—“

“You also conveniently forgot that he called you tin man so, you know. There was that too.” Steve leaned back, glancing over for a reaction and smiling gently as Tony glared.

“No, I was gonna ignore it and go for celebrating the small victory, but no. You’re right. I’m not going to stand for—“ He rethought, “lie down— for that kind of slander. Because, to me, you’re insinuating that I have no heart, which I can assure you— after multiple open-heart surgeries— I most definitely have.”

"Yeah, I guess you're more like the scarecrow." Bucky grinned, earning himself a _look_ from Tony. 

"Yeah, sure, make fun of the injured man, I see how it is." Tony pouted as Steve rolled his eyes.

“I feel like I’m in an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting right now.” He chuckled, sitting back, “Like I’m about to get some kind of intervention. Hi, I’m Tony and there’s not one single reason why I’m here, cause I've done all of it. You name it, I’ve got it. But seriously, you guys look like you’re about to drop some shit on me so hurry up so that I can get some more sleep because I am still exhausted.”

Both Steve and Bucky went uncharacteristically quiet, directing their eyes to anywhere but Tony. Steve opened his mouth, but closed it a moment later and elbowed Bucky instead.

“Come on big boys. Use your words. Spit it out.” He smirked, enjoying the look on their faces.

"Well...I mean, we've been thinking about this for a while, and- well, we would have done it a lot earlier if _someone_ -" he paused to glare at Steve. "Hadn't gotten himself hurt every three seconds."

“... thinking about what?” He glanced up, his attempts to hide his confusion failing.

"We... we're together, right? Me and Stevie?"

“Um, yeah? I’m not sure why you’re asking me, it’s pretty obvious—“

"Yeah, yeah, it's just..." Bucky's words trailed off into a murmur.

“Sorry? Speak up? Not all of us are blessed with super hearing Barnes.” He grinned, holding back laughter.

"We...were wondering. If you want to go out. With us." His words were barely loud enough for Tony to hear, and his face got redder with every word.

His face fell, and he blinked a few times in shock, “... what?”

“Tony...” Steve was nervous, tapping his leg, “We wanted to see if you were up for—“

He held up a hand, “Oh no. Oh no no no. You don’t get to play with my emotions like this. You can’t- you can’t be like this-“

“Tony what do you mean—“ he was reaching out, trying not to say anything wrong. 

“I mean, you— you have no idea, do you!? You broke my heart Steve! You fucked me up— I thought maybe- just maybe- There was something there. That you cared. And then- and then shit happened and you ran off and- you came back and everything was different and what did you want from me!? What did you expect me to do!?”

"I don't expect you to do anything!" Steve looked away, his heart beating fast enough for him to feel it pounding against his chest. "Look, I'm sorry, it was a stupid idea, alright? Just..." With that, he stood up, leaving the room before he could fuck up the situation even more.

He wanted to call him back, to apologize, but instead he went numb, letting his face fall neutral again. Why did he always do that? He always messed things up. And Buck... poor Bucky. He was glancing between the door and Tony, a pained look on his face.

"Go ahead and get him." Tony sighed, turning away. "There's no use just sitting here staring at me."

There was pain in his voice when he stood up, but not at Tony, “I- I’m sorry. Seriously, I’m sorry—“

Tony waved him off, “My fault. Gotta learn to control my anger. Go calm him down or something.”

"Alright." He nodded. "I'll be back in a bit, don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

He waited until he left the room before responding, laying his head back with a groan, “I think I already did.”

 

Bucky found Steve in one of the empty rooms, slumped over in a chair, head buried in his hands. He said nothing as Bucky walked in, only glanced up at him with an empty look in his eyes.

“Stevie. Talk to me. Don’t just mope around and expect me not to say anything.” He sighed, sitting next to him with a frown.

"I just...he was right. I shouldn't have said anything." He sighed. "I don't even deserve to be talking to him after all the shit that happened... Jesus, Buck, it was all my fault."

“It was everyone’s fault. Mine included. And I don’t think he really believes what he’s saying, do you want to know why?”

"Why?" Steve turned to face Bucky.

“Because if you saw the way he looked right after you walked out, you’d be running all the way right back there again. Because you know he’s tired and scared and has no fuckin' clue how to work his problems out but he tries his best with what he knows. Babe, he’s not angry, he’s terrified.”

"But he's right..." Steve shook his head. "All that shit I did to him...I really can't expect him to forgive me. Hell, he still flinches when I pick up the shield- he thinks I haven't noticed. I...I should've told him everything from the start."

He laughed, but not harshly, “Yeah, maybe. But you can’t solely blame yourself. He’s been through a lot and, come on. He doesn’t hate you. Clearly.”

"Should...should we go back? Talk to him?"

“Up to you. But I’ll wait here with you, as long as you need me to.” He took his hand, rubbing a thumb over it.

"I'll... I'll go ahead and go. I don't want him to be alone like this."

“If you need to wait, I’ll send someone else in, Steve. Him lashing out like that...” he shook his head, “Steve, take your time. I think he might need it too.”

Steve nodded, moving over to the bed so that Bucky could sit beside him. "...thank you."

“Yeah, no problem. I’m gonna step out and talk to ‘Tasha real quick and I’ll be right back. That okay?” He turned to look at him, trying to find any hint of hesitation.

He nodded. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll be fine for a few minutes." He smiled wearily.

With a glance back, he retreated, leaning in the hallway and digging out his phone.

She picked up immediately, “So, I’m guessing that didn’t go as planned.”

“Yeah. No.” He ran a hand over his face, staring up at the ceiling, “How’d you guess?”

“Mmm. See, I actually didn’t have to, because for the past ten minutes I’ve been dealing with Tony deciding to fall out of his bed trying to stand, then wallow around like some dejected over-emotional teen-- repeatedly telling himself that he is, and I quote, ‘a goddamn mess who doesn’t know when to just shut his mouth’. So yeah. No words needed. Care to explain?”

"Is ' we fucked up' a good enough explanation?" Bucky laughed quietly, leaning against the wall. "Anyways, Steve's about the same way, he's a little ways down the hall in an empty room- a completely dark room, might I add- sulking around and putting all the blame on himself, as usual."

“Mhm. So, I’d ask for you to tell me the story, but first I’d like to know something, okay?” he could hear the way she leaned back against the wall, “What. Are you. Gonna do about this?”

"About what?" There weren't many people that were able to make Bucky nervous, but Natasha was definitely at the top of that list.

“Oh, don’t play dumb. That genius idiot almost tore out his fucking IVs not even five minutes ago. You think I’m dumb. You weren’t joking when you said you fucked up, and I’m not sure if it was you- or Rogers,” oh hell she was pissed if she was using last names right now, “Or even Tony himself, but you’re going to tell me how exactly you and him plan to fix this mess before— give me five seconds—“ Her voice muffled but he could still hear her, “Stark I swear to god, you try to rip those out one more time and I’m sending Pepper on your ass—“ He suddenly realized who was second on the aforementioned list, “Tell me how you boys plan to fix this before Stark runs off to sit in his self pity in some mansion in California.”

"Did... did Steve ever tell you about the plan we had? We came up with it...about a year ago, maybe?"

“Yeah no. Never shut up about it. And I told him— ‘he’s oblivious. He’s not gonna realize. Steve you gotta be blunt about it. Gotta give it to him straight’— no pun intended, of course— and you know what he said? ‘He’s a genius. I’m sure he’ll figure it out.’ Well? How’d the whole ‘trying to woo the genius’ go? He ever figure it out?”

"I mean, it was straightforward, just...maybe not at the right time..."

“Yeah, you think?” She sighed, lowering her voice, “Look, I get it. I do. He’s a mystery to all of us. But trust me when I’m telling you that he needs you two to keep him from doing something dumb. Maybe just talk to him one at a time right now. Preferably you, Buck.”

He sighed. "Yeah... alright, I'll be in there in a few minutes. Maybe...try and talk to Steve while I'm gone."

“I’ll try. No promises he’ll listen though.”

“Yeah, figures. He’s a punk. I’ll be right there.” And he almost felt bad for leaving. Almost. But the look on Tony’s face when he walked in wiped that away.

“I’m an idiot. You know that? I’m a huge goddamned idiot, Buck.”

"Yeah, well I guess that makes two of us." Bucky grinned slightly, sitting down on the edge of Tony's bed. "And don't you dare start fucking apologizing, because for once, it's entirely my fault that this shit happened."

“I call bullshit—“ He was pouting. He pouted a lot more now that he wasn’t so worried all of the time.

"Yeah, well...I shouldn't have just brought it up like that. I'm not exactly good at this type of stuff-- emotions and all that."

“No, that’s not- Buck, listen none of this is on you, alright? It’s- it’s on me. And it’s on shitty communication skills, and it’s on bad timing, but don’t you dare think any of this mess is on you, okay? You didn’t screw stuff up, and I would say all of it’s on me, but I really don’t wanna be killed right now for saying that. Just... I don’t know why I reacted like that. I guess I was scared or some other bull but I—“ He sighed, chuckling, “Guess I never expected for it to actually happen.”

"But you wanted it to?" Bucky stared blankly at the wall, wondering what the hell he could possibly say to fix this.

“Steve’s upset.” Tony looked away as well, changing the subject and focusing on his IV and whatever it was pumping into him.

"Yeah, he is." Bucky forced a small grin. "He's off brooding around in another room, but I figured you wouldn't want him in here just yet."

“What room?” He almost didn’t notice the way Tony was messing with the wires, taking them off one by one. Almost. 

“If you keep doing that it’ll be a battle between the doctors, Pepper and 'Tasha over who’ll kill you first.”

“Doesn’t matter. Gotta talk to him. What room?” He glanced up, hesitating for a second.

Bucky reached out, gently moving his arm away from the wires. "He's a few doors down, left side. Don't let me catch you sneaking over there, I'm sure he'll be in here soon anyways. If I know anything about him, it's that his guilt is going to overpower his emotions soon enough."

“Good to know. But you catch everything. So how about you just turn around and pretend like you didn’t see anything and I’m gonna go talk to him—“

“You’re gonna collapse if you try to stand up, let alone walk. How determined are you to do this?”

"I mean, I know which IVs I need to leave in so that I don't pass out or something, so as long as I can figure out a way to make those moveable- which, knowing me, should only take a few minutes- I can get over there."

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "Or, I can just go get him and tell him to come over here..."

“Nope. I gotta show that I’m determined to fix this. Alright. I’m ready. Help me up.” He glanced over at the other man, raising an eyebrow.

"No. He'll know perfectly well that you want to fix this as much as he does. You're staying there before you hurt yourself even more."

“Look, I’ll be fine, just help me up!” He was trying to himself, hissing as he turned to stand.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Fine. But you're sitting down every chance you get, and you are not going to argue with me at all."

He chuckled, letting him fall at his side, “As you wish.” 

"Was that a-- Jesus Christ Tony, did you just make a goddamned _The Princess Bride_ reference when you can't even walk?" 

"Yes, I did, meaning you _did_ watch the movies I told you to watch!"

"Yeah, you caught me there." He wanted to be upset that he was trying to joke around, but having him at his side, warm and determined and _very much alive_... that was enough.

Slowly, the two made their way to Steve's room, Bucky suddenly grateful that he'd stayed on the same level. He pretended not to notice as Tony all but collapsed on the empty bed, giving him a moment to ease his labored breathing.

Steve looked up, eyes widening as he glanced between the two, opening his mouth to speak, before Bucky held up a hand, begging, pleading for just... silence... only for a moment, only long enough for it to seem like nothing was wrong.

Steve broke the silence. 

"So, I see you were persistent enough to try and walk in here on your own." He gave a small smile.

“Yeah no, probably a horrible mistake ‘cause my side is on fire right now, but I needed to say something so—“

“So say it, Tony. Please.” His small smile fell, looking away from him. 

“We need to talk about things. First. Before anything else. And... I’m sorry. That I snapped. That I’m an asshole. Not like you didn’t know that already, but still. Sorry.”

"No, don't apologize. I definitely deserved that." He laughed a bit. "Besides, I'm a pretty big asshole myself, so..."

“America’s sweetheart and his badass boyfriend? Doubt it. Now I, I have a reputation to hold up.” He smirked, but his face scrunched up in pain as he twisted, going still for a second before relaxing. 

“Why do you do that?” Bucky knew he shouldn’t ask, knew it wasn’t a big deal but—

“Do what?”

“Talk down about yourself. Hide your pain. Why do you do that?” Steve joined in, realizing where it was going.

He knew they were right but he couldn’t admit it so he did what he always did. Denied it, “Second time you've asked my why I do something today, Steve. But I'll tell you what, I don’t do that, I'm just—“ 

“Yes, you do. All the time. Why?” There was a touch of desperation in the Captain’s normally strong voice. 

Tony shrugged gently, glancing away and searching for an answer, “I don’t- I don’t know. Don’t notice it at least. Habit, I guess?”

"You know you don't have to, right?" Steve sighed. "It isn't like we're going to think any less of you because you're hurt. Hell, I should know, Buck's still with me after all those years of getting my ass beat in random alleys."

“That’s different. You two- that’s- it’s different, okay?”

"No, it's really not. We care about you, Tony. The whole team does, we just want to make sure you're okay."

He looked ready to snap something, say something about how they both knew that that wasn’t true, but... he didn’t. He stayed quiet and Bucky came to a disturbing realization.

“You’ve been holding your tongue. You keep doing that: pulling your punches, even in public. I've seen videos... from before and this is... what you're doing now- thinking about every single word you say- it's new.”

“Weird. I didn’t realize. Glad you noticed, 'cause I sure didn't.” It was obviously sarcasm, him trying to keep the upper hand, “Wonder if that’s the reason why everyone got pardoned. Huh. Almost like someone had to step up and be responsible for once to fix some messes.”

"We could've helped-"

"Oh, really? Helping? Is that what you call running off to Wakanda and cutting off all contact with the team for months?" He laughed bitterly, “Oh wait. I forgot. It wasn’t the team you cut off. Just select people.” It wasn’t anger in his eyes though, it was raw, unfiltered pain, “I didn’t plan to say anything. Forgive and forget and all that- that bull. But if you had any- any idea what it took to- to do all that I had to do to get everyone back—“

He was tearing up. Shit. 

“If you knew how much- how much sleep I missed out on- how many days I wanted to lock myself away and couldn’t because I was busy trying to make it so that everyone could come home without being arrested for what!? Things aren’t ever going to be the same and not a single person doesn’t realize that!

“And then what!? We just... just pretend everything’s fine and dandy and try not to fall apart anymore than we already have...” he trailed off, wiping his face harshly and trying not to let it show that he was upset. But he needed someone to hold him together so he wouldn’t fall apart.

 

"Tony..." Steve stood up, walking over to Tony and sitting down beside him. "I can't promise you that everything's going to be okay, because we all know that isn't happening anytime soon. But you don't have to be alone anymore, alright? You don't have to carry all this weight yourself. God, Tony, I was a fucking idiot for leaving..."

He was leaning away, trying to hide the fact that he was closer and closer to breaking down, voice shaking, “Yeah, yeah you were.” His left hand shook violently, clutching the blanket to stop it.

Steve hesitated a moment before placing a hand over Tony's shaking one, eyes locking for a brief second. He felt his heart stop as he waited for some sort of reaction, for Tony to go off on him again. Part of him regretted leaving while the other part regretted coming back, and a sinking feeling settled inside him as he realized that whatever he had been through, Tony had been here, fighting through so much more and never saying a word.

And for the first time in what felt like years, Tony reached out. His eyes softened and he held out his arm for Steve and finally broke as he was pulled closer, his eyes falling shut.

Steve felt tears slipping down his face as he held Tony, one hand moving up and down his back. "I'm so sorry, Tony." he whispered, wishing that he could put everything back together, undo the damage that they'd caused. "I'm so sorry."

After what seemed like an hour, Tony pulled away, wiping off tears with a choked laugh, “You know, your boyfriend apologized like months ago. Maybe try following his lead for once.”

"Hey, I apologized several times...just... mentally." Steve kept his grip on Tony's hand, gently tracing circles on the back of it with his thumb.  
He was still shaking a bit, and he smile still seemed a little forced but he still was grinning, “Use your words, big man. You’ve got a mouth for a reason” Bucky was smirking and suddenly he was flustered, “— actually, you know what— scratch that. Never mind. I didn’t say anything. Don’t read into that—“ Steve glanced at him and...

He laughed. It was... normal. That nice, deep chuckle that seemed resonate through the room, brightening the mood.

For the first time in ages, Tony was able to close his eyes and feel somewhat relaxed, a sense of calmness washing over him as Steve pulled him closer. He felt the bed sink a bit as Bucky sat down on his other side.

It was nice.

“Ah! Loosen up a bit, still not feeling great!”

"Shit, sorry, sorry..." Steve pulled away, his face slightly red.

“It’s fine, just... careful. Not all of us are magically healed up already.” He kept his hand in his, closing his eyes, “Are you sure you want to try this?”

Steve nodded. "Definitely."

“Then lets give it a shot. What’s the worst that could happen, right?”

Steve chuckled. "It's not like we can go much farther downhill."

“We still need to talk about things.” He sighed, moving so that his hand was intertwined with his.

"I know. We're gonna work this out." Steve sighed.

“Alright. Emotional stuff. I’m bad with this junk, you know that. But I should probably head back, just so I don’t get killed by Pepper.”

"Or, you can stop trying to get out of bed, seeing how well that went last time." Bucky spoke up, smirking a bit.

“Hey, you’re an enabler. You’re an accomplice now. Plus, it’s just because of my leg. I’ve walked off worse. Don’t let Pepper kill me, just help me back there.”

A grin spread across Bucky's face. "You know, it would be so much easier if one of us just carried you..."

“No! No! I am not being carried! Not happening! I am fine, I can do it myself—“

"Nope! I don't think so." Steve smiled, reaching over and pulling Tony into his arms, who gave a small squawk of protest as he was lifted from the bed.

“Put me down!!” He gently hit his chest, finally stopping with a joking frown, “You’re an asshat, Rogers.”

"Yeah, I know." He laughed, ignoring Tony's groan as Bucky pulled out his phone, taking a picture of the two.

Needless to say, Pepper wasn’t happy, but that was alright, because things were going to work out. Not perfectly. Not without any problems, but it was going to be okay. 

They were going to be okay. 

And when Bucky changed his phone background to a picture of the three of them, well, Tony didn't complain one bit.

**Author's Note:**

> TST: Also, YES, I did make a Princess Bride reference and I'm not at all ashamed bc that movie is a gem. I felt like the end was a little rushed, but idk. Help out by leaving comments or talking to me on www.thesmollestgay.tumblr.com ! Thanks for reading!
> 
> ps: If you do follow my tumblr from here, please send me an ask saying so! It would help even more if you could tell me if   
> a) You'd like me to post drabbles on there  
> b) You'd like to help, either by letting me run some ideas by or by beta-ing the chapters  
> and c) You have any comments! I'd love some feedback and constructive criticism! Thank you guys so much <3


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